Chessplayers Can Be [Amusingly!] Cruel
No really, it's true!
This headline, as shocking as "Dog Bites Man" or "Politican Caught in Scandal", came to mind as I was thumbing through one of my old favorite chess books, the late great David Bronstein's 200 Open Games, and came across this position from his 1953 game with OTB and Correspondence GM Yakov Estrin:
It's White (Bronstein) to move; here's what he says:
"In this game I realized one of my favourite comic combinations.
"It would have been easy to play my king away (32 Kh1) and create the unparryable threat of Rxf7, but what of that would have stuck in my memory?
"Seen in this light, the serene move 32 Bxd6 seemed to me the most attractive solution to the problem.
"Estrin apparently could not believe his lucky stars: in a flash he took the bishop and without any hesitation the rook on f2. His consternation when he saw White's simple check, 34 Qe6+, would be difficult, nay impossible, to convey in words. It had to be seen" (p. 143; notation changed to algebraic).
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White went on to win the game on move 55, but 32.Kh1 really does win immediately. Did Bronstein really choose a dramatically worse continuation just for its comic - or worse, its sadistic effect? Or, a little more charitably, perhaps he overestimated his position after 34.Qe6+ - see the game for more details.
In any case, this reminded me of a slightly comic, slightly sadistic experience from own career. After suffering some tense moments earlier in the game, everything was under control here - I'm Black:
It's my move, I'm winning a piece and mating his king. Worse still, my opponent has one second left on his clock (to make four moves, I think) and we're playing without increments. Naturally, my next move is 36...Rxg1+, but before playing it I decided to calculate everything to mate and make my moves immediately. My thinking went something like this:
"36...Rxg1+ 37.Kh2 Rh1+ 38.Kg3 Rxh3+ 39.Kf2...not working. Ok, how about 38...Qe1+ 39.Rf2 Rxh3+? That seems to work...but why am I double-checking this when there's something simpler? There's 36...Rxg1+ 37.Kh2 Qe1(!), and now White has nothing but spite checks and interpositions [as it turns out, it takes a move longer than 37...Rh1+ when all the spite moves are taken into account, but it's conceptually simpler], and that's it. Best of all, it's a great way to put the other guy over on time [not that I needed to]: he wants to react with obvious, instant, forced moves, but 37...Qe1 gives him all the (bad) options in the world."
And so it was. I took the bishop, he moved the king, and then I instantly played 37...Qe1. My opponent was so ready for 37...Rh1+ that he picked up his king to put it on g3, then realized he couldn't and held it in the air, helplessly, before calling his own flag.
I don't know if Estrin or my opponent found their plights amusing in retrospect, but when IM Igor Shliperman tortured me - very artistically - in our game from the 1999 USATE tournament, I did. I fought and scraped and felt frustrated as the noose drew tighter, but this was concurrent with a sense of aesthetic appreciation - and amusement - for what he was doing. He didn't always choose the most obvious or efficient route, but it was the most artistic.
So, while I ultimately can't condone the crueler aspects of our beloved game, it is possible to appreciate the art and humor of such situations - even when one is the victim!
This headline, as shocking as "Dog Bites Man" or "Politican Caught in Scandal", came to mind as I was thumbing through one of my old favorite chess books, the late great David Bronstein's 200 Open Games, and came across this position from his 1953 game with OTB and Correspondence GM Yakov Estrin:
It's White (Bronstein) to move; here's what he says:
"In this game I realized one of my favourite comic combinations.
"It would have been easy to play my king away (32 Kh1) and create the unparryable threat of Rxf7, but what of that would have stuck in my memory?
"Seen in this light, the serene move 32 Bxd6 seemed to me the most attractive solution to the problem.
"Estrin apparently could not believe his lucky stars: in a flash he took the bishop and without any hesitation the rook on f2. His consternation when he saw White's simple check, 34 Qe6+, would be difficult, nay impossible, to convey in words. It had to be seen" (p. 143; notation changed to algebraic).
***********************************************
White went on to win the game on move 55, but 32.Kh1 really does win immediately. Did Bronstein really choose a dramatically worse continuation just for its comic - or worse, its sadistic effect? Or, a little more charitably, perhaps he overestimated his position after 34.Qe6+ - see the game for more details.
In any case, this reminded me of a slightly comic, slightly sadistic experience from own career. After suffering some tense moments earlier in the game, everything was under control here - I'm Black:
It's my move, I'm winning a piece and mating his king. Worse still, my opponent has one second left on his clock (to make four moves, I think) and we're playing without increments. Naturally, my next move is 36...Rxg1+, but before playing it I decided to calculate everything to mate and make my moves immediately. My thinking went something like this:
"36...Rxg1+ 37.Kh2 Rh1+ 38.Kg3 Rxh3+ 39.Kf2...not working. Ok, how about 38...Qe1+ 39.Rf2 Rxh3+? That seems to work...but why am I double-checking this when there's something simpler? There's 36...Rxg1+ 37.Kh2 Qe1(!), and now White has nothing but spite checks and interpositions [as it turns out, it takes a move longer than 37...Rh1+ when all the spite moves are taken into account, but it's conceptually simpler], and that's it. Best of all, it's a great way to put the other guy over on time [not that I needed to]: he wants to react with obvious, instant, forced moves, but 37...Qe1 gives him all the (bad) options in the world."
And so it was. I took the bishop, he moved the king, and then I instantly played 37...Qe1. My opponent was so ready for 37...Rh1+ that he picked up his king to put it on g3, then realized he couldn't and held it in the air, helplessly, before calling his own flag.
I don't know if Estrin or my opponent found their plights amusing in retrospect, but when IM Igor Shliperman tortured me - very artistically - in our game from the 1999 USATE tournament, I did. I fought and scraped and felt frustrated as the noose drew tighter, but this was concurrent with a sense of aesthetic appreciation - and amusement - for what he was doing. He didn't always choose the most obvious or efficient route, but it was the most artistic.
So, while I ultimately can't condone the crueler aspects of our beloved game, it is possible to appreciate the art and humor of such situations - even when one is the victim!